


Connect

by NovaRose



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: American Sign Language, Angst, Bonding, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaRose/pseuds/NovaRose
Summary: A series of moments between Elisa and her creature.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/gifts).



She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever wished that she’d had a voice; or, for that matter, if there had ever even been a time in her life that she had ever felt the need to desire a voice at all, that is, of course, until that very moment, when it mattered, because she was with him. She kept her eyes on him, carefully, as he sat submerged in the cool, murky, algae-filled water of her bathtub. She lowered herself down to the ground, slowly settling herself next to him on the floor, her eyes nearly glowing in sheer delight as she studied the way his markings lit up underneath her hand as her fingertips brushed against his face tenderly.

Blue.

A shade of blue that was so bright and vivid and beautiful that from the very first moment she laid eyes on it, she had been entirely certain of the fact that she had never seen anything quite like it, and most likely never would again, after he was gone.

There, together, she was so in love, she was so surely and helplessly in love with him, that she knew that she would stay with him, gazing at him with nothing but devotion in her eyes and in her entire existence, for hours and hours and hours, if it appeared that she could ever have the chance (and she would have done anything, for that chance). She only longed to have a voice in that moment so that she would be able to tell him, so that she would have another method to make him understand just how much she loved and cared for him. Despite the fact that she had been trying so hard to teach him, it came as no real surprise, she had to admit to herself, the fact that he still did not seem able to comprehend what the majority of her hand motions even meant.

_None of them meant anything to him, because why would they?_

But, she had been trying to teach him how to sign her name for a few days now, because she was determined and because she wanted him to know how, if he knew nothing else, with virtually no progress. He always watched her, though, like a patient student and always seeming to be almost eager to learn, as she pointed to herself and then delicately signed the…

_E..._

_L..._

_I..._

_S..._

_A..._

…and he chirped curiously at her each time her hand formed a new letter. When she finished, she bit her bottom lip each time, silently hoping for the small chance that he would repeat the letters back to her eventually, if only she rehearsed it with him enough; and even if it were just one time, it would be okay.

He never did; and that was precisely the reason why she had come to wish, right then, if only for a few minutes, that she had had the gift of speech because maybe then, just maybe, that was the correct and only way for him to be able to understand even just a small fraction of what she had been trying to tell him all along. But then, she couldn’t help but begin to consider the fact that even if she did have a voice and she could speak, she herself was rather uncertain of the idea of whether or not there was even enough words in existence in the entire universe for her to even be able to begin to explain to him all of the things that she wished so desperately that she could.

She only wished that there were words to explain to him how much she treasured him and their time together and how devastatingly painful it was for her to even so much as begin to imagine having to let him go. The very thought of it made her feel absolutely sick, knowing that she only had a few more days left with him, before she would never see him again.

No, surely there were not enough words in the universe to explain any of it, there never was, and surely, there never would be.

She swallowed, abruptly turning her attention back onto him, the sudden sloshing of the water in the tub within the silent cave seeming to be loud and jarring enough to pull her out of her thoughts. 

Blinking, he moved close to her and chirped at her softly, in a way he never had before.

His markings had turned purple now, a deep, strange purple, and she only tilted her head towards him slightly, curious, as she contemplated what that could mean. She only watched quietly as he motioned to her, his vocalizations softening, his webbed hands clumsily forming one of the few signs that he did know, one of the few signs that she had been successful in getting him to retain the meaning of.

_Sad._

She sighed, knowing now that she must have looked upset and he looked concerned and upset, too; and, she had come to realize then the exact way in which he always seemed to be very, very good at reading emotions, in fact, it had occurred to her right than that he was far, far better at it than most of the humans she knew, actually.

_I’m okay._

She signed to him, hoping that that would be enough to appease him, shaking her head as she became aware for the first time of the tears that had formed in her eyes. She wanted to touch his face again, to comfort him as she watched his markings gradually change back to that wonderful shade of blue, but she stopped herself when saw something flutter in front of her. His hands were moving again and it occurred to her that he was trying to sign to her again.

Curiously, she watched him watch his own hands as he tried so hard to remember and carefully and slowly sign the letters that she had been trying so hard to teach him back to her finally. He took his time and he was so careful because he wanted to sign all of the letters in the right order, in exactly the way that she had taught him.

He wanted to get it right.

For her.

_E..._

_L..._

_I..._

_S..._

_A..._

When he was finished, she felt the corners of her mouth turn up slightly, and she only smiled at him in the same way that she always did whenever she looked at him.

She nodded, her eyes glowing with pride.

And love.

_Yes._


	2. Chapter 2

From the very moment that he seemed to have finally made the connection, it was literally as if a light bulb had gone off somewhere deep inside, and he was beginning to understand. She knew that now by the way that he would sign to her, whenever she would go to him; whenever she would move to lay with him in his pool, wanting and needing him to touch her, because he was always so very gentle with her. He would sign to her almost frantically, chirping in excitement at the very sight of her, as fast and as many times as his webbed hands would allow him to, his markings burning bluer and more brilliantly just below the surface than they ever had before.

_E-L-I-S-A, E-L-I-S-A, E-L-I-S-A, E-L-I-S-A._

She knew he would have gone on and signed her name to her forever if he could, because that was his favorite thing. She could only smile at that as she watched, nuzzling him gently, patiently waiting for the moment that he decided that he was finished before she delicately signed something back to him that she knew he wouldn’t understand.

_I love you._

He hesitated, blinking at her, thinking and watching her as intently as he could. She was so intimately close to him, but he had since learned to only keep his eyes on her hands, as she finally had the chance to say to him exactly what she been so desperate to since the last time they were together. There was something about the way that he was watching her sign to him, something about how closely he seemed to be following her, that made her realize that it was all because he appeared to truly want to know how to do it, further evidenced by the fact that there were actually times where he would use a new sign, afterwards, asking her to repeat herself.

She did, shifting in the water, because she loved him, she loved him, and she always would.

_I love you._

He had copied that very same sign back to her twice so far, which had admittedly made her almost want to dare to believe that maybe they were finally beginning to make some real, significant progress together. However, she did know, deep, down inside of herself that in both those instances, he had always kept his eyes down, carefully studying the way in which his own hand formed the sign, rather than looking at her. She questioned whether or not it was even registering with him, at all, really, the magnitude of what exactly it was that he had been saying to her; whether or not there was any meaning behind any of it, or if it was all only because he had been trying to mimic what he was seeing her do.

She only imagined that he would understand, one day, what it all meant, that is, if he wasn’t going to forget her, after he had gone. She had to admit just how afraid she was that he might not remember her at all eventually; though, she could only hope that he would. Then, she would realize that for now, just being able to be with him, just being able to be together for what little time they may have had left, seemed to be just enough to calm her and provide her with precisely the sense of comfort that she appeared to have been searching for, the precise sense of comfort that she never knew that she needed.

She would shut her eyes then, laying her head down on him, the sensation of his wet, slippery scales against her milky, bare skin and the rhythm of his soft, quiet chirps to her quickly lulling her to sleep.

* * *

He tilted his head, pointing across the cave at the bowl of apples that she had resting on her kitchen counter. She picked one up, sensing what it was he was trying to ask of her. He wished for her to show him the sign for it, so that he would understand, and he was asking her for it in the same way that he always seemed to ask her for things, but only because it was the only way that he seemed to know how.

She paused for a moment to present the apple to him, showing it to him and making sure that he could see it as clearly as possible, slowly forming a fist with her other hand, curving her index finger, bringing it up to her cheek.

_Apple._

_Apple._

He signed back and she truly could not have been more elated, mainly because this was the fifth new word that he had learned over the course of just one morning. Now, he understood _apple,_ along with _salt, water, hot,_ and _flower,_ though, she felt she still was just getting started with their little lesson.

She still had so much that she had to teach him.

She still had so much that she wanted to teach him, she imagined.

Then, she seemed to have gotten an idea, removing a knife from a drawer and placing the apple down on the counter. She cut into it carefully, slicing it first in half, and then into quarters, before putting the knife down again. Cupping both of her hands gently around the slices of fruit, she carried them over to him, placing them in front of him on the table. She sat down next to him, taking one piece of apple for herself so that they could share. She watched him pick up an apple slice, smelling it for just a moment before choosing to take a rather large bite out of it.

She laughed at that, raising her eyebrows in amusement, lifting a hand to her chin.

_Good?_

He only chewed slowly, his gills flaring out slightly the moment that he was able to swallow and she realized that she had gotten her answer when she observed him take another bite, apple crunching loudly between his teeth.

Smiling, she touched his hand gently.

She just didn’t understand how anyone in the world could look at him and only see something as terribly disposable as a monster, a wild animal, a _thing_ , and she knew that she likely never would.

_How could anyone ever look at him and see all of those things?_

But, maybe they were the ones who didn’t understand, because they couldn’t see his heart, at least, not like she could, which meant that they couldn’t possibly know how sweet, loving, and gentle a being he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really glad that people seem to like this story so far. I'm definitely committed to continuing this story and I'll probably be updating it about every two weeks or so. Thank you all again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

She could only watch, admittedly equal parts entertained and curious, as he sat crouched, patiently still, on the shiny, hard, wooden floor of her neighbor’s, _G-I-L-E-S_ , cave, as the only one of his felines that appeared to be brave enough to go anywhere near him, slowly and inquisitively began her approach. This cat was her own personal favorite, a lovely gray, striped female tabby.

He watched her, very, very interested at even just how gracefully this creature seemed to cross the room towards him, one fluid step at a time, her head slightly cocked at him, in near bewilderment. It had occurred to him just how odd a creature it actually was; it was a kind of creature he knew that he had never seen before, a creature that was much smaller that he was, one that walked on all-fours (as he did, sometimes), covered with hair, with a long tail and erect ears. Although, despite how mutually curious as they both seemed to be about each other, suddenly he seemed to be just a little too nervous and slightly unsure of himself the very moment that she got too close. He raised his head towards _her_ , and when his eyes met hers, she imagined that she had seen something that looked like it might have been fear, if it had been only for a moment.

_E-L-I-S-A._

He spelled out quickly to her, scooting ever so slightly towards her, and in that very instant, it almost seemed as if just the act of finger-spelling her name to her, had been just enough to be able to soothe himself, at least, somewhat.

_It’s okay._

She signed to him, anyway. Continuing slowly, pointed to the small creature and she raised a hand to her cheek, pulling it away.

_Cat._

_Cat._

He had hesitated for a long time, before signing the word back to her, slowly, questioning, searching her face carefully for any sort of reassurance she could have offered him, which he immediately received, in response, watching her for a few moments as she nodded at him encouragingly.

_Cat._

He hummed softly, repeating the sign again delightedly, as he started to settle again. Now, he understood that it would be okay, and he understood that because _E-L-I-S-A_ had told him so. His markings changed to a pale green as he turned his attention from her back to the small creature standing just beside him. She meowed loudly at him, sitting down on the ground and asking to be stroked; though, he seemed to want to wait for something, only allowing this creature, the cat, to sniff his webbed hand, as she seemed to be trying to decide for herself just what to make of him.

At that moment, he decided that he would reach over with his other hand slowly, and give her one good scratch; though he did so as gently and carefully as he possibly could with his claws, rubbing her behind the ears just exactly in the same way that he had been told to, just in the same way that her land-friend, _G-I-L-E-S_ , had showed him how. The cat closed her eyes for a moment in contentment, rubbing her head gently against his scaly forearm for more, purring at him so deeply, relishing all of the attention he seemed to be so willing and eager to give to her.

He curiously touched the stripes on her back now, seemingly entirely engrossed and fascinated with just how soft her fur felt against the surface of his rough, scaly palm. Blinking, he looked back at _E-L-I-S-A_ , as he tried his absolute hardest to think if there had ever been a time, before, though, eventually having to give up, because he realized that he had always actually known that there most likely was never another instance in his life that he had ever felt something quite as soft.

After another minute or two, the cat decided to leave him, and she had immediately noticed that he appeared to be utterly heartbroken as the cat had turned and slunk away from him, choosing instead to walk over and perch itself near the window, gazing out. He watched her go sadly, before slowly rising to his feet, chirping to _E-L-I-S-A_ , quietly, dejectedly, as he went to her. She only smiled at him, her eyes lighting up as she touched his arm lightly.

And there it was again, _G-I-L-E-S_ thought only to himself, slightly amused, quietly sitting across from her and watching her as closely as she was watching the creature. He found that the only thing that he could do at all, at that moment, was shake his head at her briefly, although it had been only abundantly clear that she was far too preoccupied to even notice it, and he only did so because had recognized that look; it had occurred to him, at that very moment that she had had the very same dreamy look in her eye that he had been a witness to countless times before. The only thing that he knew for sure was that she had that same dreamy look on her face that reminded him of someone who was very much in love; and it had been the very same dreamy look in her eye that she always and only seemed to reserve exclusively for whenever she was around him, for whenever she thought of him. For whenever she even so much as glanced at him.

“You love him, don’t you?”

He had heard himself ask, and it appeared from the way that she turned her head to the side, shifting her gaze away from the creature onto him, her eyes meeting his, that she had known as well as he did that his question to her sounded much more like a statement than anything else, one of which didn’t actually require a response. It never would, he imagined, because of course she loved him.

Why else would she have risked everything that she had ever had in order to save him?

He scoffed at his own ignorance, knowing very well that was the only reasonable and painfully obvious conclusion that one could make and could even be drawn as a result of his whole, messy situation that they had currently found themselves in the middle of. Still, she found herself nodding at him, her smile only spreading wider, because she was unable to contain it, because she couldn’t help herself, and because she wanted him to _understand_. Knowing that she was going to have to let him go soon was enough to break her heart.


	4. Chapter 4

She had dared to kiss him before, though she had done so only once; and the very instance in question had lasted only the briefest of moments.

It had been an instance that had happened between them, one evening, shortly after he had been standing at her window, watching the sun as it began to disappear beneath the horizon, painting the sky orange. She had glanced at him, only very briefly; it had not been until then that she even noticed that there had been a moment where he had turned away from the sun to look at her, seeing that he had raised three fingers of his right hand in order to form one of the shapes that he knew, raising his hand to his lips.

_Water._

And, she understood; so, she nodded, knowing that he wanted, and probably needed, to get back to the bathtub. She had taken him by the hand and tugged gently, wondering to herself if he had been out of the water for too long, anyway. Chirping, he willingly followed her as she led him back to the little pool she had created in there, only for him. He readily stepped inside, one foot at a time. She placed a hand on his shoulder gently, and he allowed her to help him lower himself down into the water.

He leaned back; content and surrounded by all of the water, he appeared to be glowing, just in the same manner as he always seemed to be, the colors of his markings changing ever so slowly and ever so finely from one to another, never repeating. They were all colors that were so rich and vibrant that she imagined that she would never have believed that colors so pure could even exist in this world, that is, if she had not seen and witnessed them with her own two eyes. Watching him, watching the way that all of the colors were changing, almost dancing under his skin, dancing with almost a bewitching quality to them. She swept a hand over her face quickly, delicately.

_Beautiful._

So, so beautiful.

She wanted very much to join him, because she had learned to cherish each and every second of all the time she got to be with him, the way that he would touch her as her body curled against his, as she shut her eyes as she would do absolutely nothing at all except breathe and listen to the steady beat of his heart. Though, she couldn’t, because she had found herself frozen there; she found herself virtually unable to look away from the ever-changing colors and she found herself both hoping and wishing that she would never need to. But, after a long, long while, she made herself, she forced herself to shift her gaze to his face, to his eyes. And, it had seemed to have been at that exact moment, there, that there was something about the look in his eyes that appeared to make her almost want to imagine, if only for a moment, that she could recognize something, in him.

Right then, for the very first time, she imagined that there was something about the way that he had been looking at her, so tenderly, that only seemed to make her begin to realize that somewhere along the way, during their time spent together, something that seemed to be much, much different than anything she had ever experienced before, something that seemed to be much more primal than even the love that she knew she felt for him, had since been planted somewhere deep, inside of herself. She just wasn’t quite sure she would ever be able to explain exactly what it even was. But it didn’t matter, because the truth was that she had always felt that from the very first moment she had laid eyes on him, it was almost as if something had been drawing her to him, somehow, someway, all along, and it always had been.

It was something that was entirely unknown to her as well as something entirely unspoken, although, maybe it didn’t need to be. She knew, just as she had always known, that there had been something about him, there had been something about his very existence that seemed strangely foreign to her; and, yet at the very same time, it also seemed oddly familiar, in a way that had made her nearly feel as if she had known him, somehow, all her life. And, it was all true. She _was_ connected to him, their two souls forming an everlasting link, by something that was so very big, much bigger than either one of them ever would be. She just didn’t know it yet. The only thing that she did know, with any amount of certainty, at all, was that she was inexplicably drawn to him, by something that, to her, seemed to be so strange, so deep, and so powerful, that it made her almost fearful.

He had since begun to hum to her softly, and before she even knew it, she felt herself lean in close to him, unable to stop herself, unable to know what it was she was even doing, unable to think, unable to feel, unable to even care. Her lips brushed against his gently, before she pulled away, and then, it was all over nearly as soon as it had all began. She blushed, feeling slightly nervous, flustered, unsure of herself, as she watched him, but only because she had never allowed herself to be quite this intimate with anyone before. He chirped, blinking at her, glowing a soft blue now; the salty taste of him still lingered on her lips, though, she found that she could do nothing more except smile at him again, pausing for only a moment, deep in thought, before she started to sign something new to him, slow, deciding and wanting to believe that he would understand.

_You are my everything._

She could only watch as he reached for her, hesitantly, gently placing a webbed hand over hers. Her smile grew wider; she held onto his hand the very moment that he had made eye contact with her again, because if nothing else, she only wanted him to know that his touch was welcome, just as it had always been, just as it always would be. Then, she looked down curiously, her eyes only glittering as she studied the very way in which droplets of water seemed to travel, so smoothly and so perfectly, from his skin to hers, as if they were one.


	5. Chapter 5

He was at the window again, looking out through the glass, his markings nearly flushed with _something_ as he watched what was happening on the other side.

_Rain._

_Rain._

_E-L-I-S-A._

He signed, looking at her for a moment, and calling her attention to him as he chirped, restlessly, before he turned back and pointed, his eyes only seeming to be searching hers for confirmation, for approval. She smiled at him, nodding, but only because she knew that he absolutely loved _this_. In fact, she knew that he had since grown to love nearly everything there was to love about watching the rain. She had to admit, she was really impressed at just how much progress he had made, just how much he had learned so far, in only the past few days, since the beginning of their time together.

But as much as he seemed to love to watch the rain, it appeared that he seemed to love to sign to her even more; it appeared that he seemed to love to sign to her all of the words that he knew now, and she suspected that the very reason why he did that was mostly because it had been her who had been the one that had taught them all to him.

And she felt that she had to admit that he was becoming so, so _good_ at it too. In fact, he seemed to have gotten so much better at it now, than she could have ever even really hoped he would be. And actually, the truth of the matter was that it didn’t really matter how many words he had been able to know so far, and how many words he still had yet to learn. The truth of the matter was that she could have taught him all of the words and he could have learned them all and yet still, it wouldn’t have ever been enough; and none of it would ever matter, actually, because his favorite word was and always would be _E-L-I-S-A._

She had to admit that it had all been an enormous comfort for her because it had occurred to her that in the end, and at the very least, she would know and be able to remember at least that much about him. Knowing at least that much about him made her feel that could only love him all the more for it, even more than she already did, and even more than she imagined she ever could.

She watched him as he effortlessly traced single raindrops with one clawed finger as they traveled, one by one, on the other side of the glass, from the top of the window to the bottom, nearly mesmerized by something that she had long considered to be so simple.

Startled, he lowered his arm from the window only when he seemed to sense sudden, yet slight movement behind him. It had been then that he realized that at some point, she had left her spot on the couch and had since joined him there, at the window. He turned slightly to look at her once again, making a sound that she decided in an instant that she adored; though, it had been a sound that she couldn’t remember him ever making in her presence before, one of which sounded very much like a purr.

Soft, low, delicate.

_Rain._

He signed one last time to her, before placing a webbed hand flat against the glass; it had not been until that very moment that she had even realized just how pained he had looked. She frowned, touching his shoulder gently, wishing so desperately that she had known what to do, in that very moment; she wished so desperately that she had been able to know what was wrong, because if she were ever able to know what was wrong, well, than that meant that she would know exactly what it was that she would need to do to soothe him.

Scales instantly flaked off at the contact, entirely too easily.

She immediately removed her hand from him, as if she had been scalded, only staring at them as they glistened briefly in her palm. Shaken, she felt tears instantly sting her eyes, as she tried her best for only a moment to read the expression on his face. Swallowing heavily, she blinked before she took him gently by the hand and tried to lead him away from the window.

He tried to pull his hand away from her at first, resisting, not understanding, not wishing to leave his rain, but then he caught a glimpse of the look in her eyes as she watched him, he just seemed to know, without her even having to explain it to him. She was pleading with him, just as delicately and silently as she always would.

So, he allowed her to bring him into a cave that he had never once been in before. It was a somewhat odd cave that appeared to be nothing like anything he had ever seen. It was a very odd cave that appeared to be nothing like the one that she had been keeping him in, the one that he liked so much mostly because it was where she always came to see him; the one where they had spent so much of their time together, since she had first brought him to this rather strange dwelling place, the one with all of the _water._

He chattered to himself curiously, not quite sure if he liked this one nearly as much, but only because of the fact that there was no water to be found in it, anywhere. She kept his eyes on him, because somewhere along their journey from one part of the cave to the next, she realized that he was breathing had gotten even heavier and he began to wheeze in the most terrible way possible.

_She worried, she worried, she worried._

Once inside, he looked at her, feeling slightly unsure, as she led him over to a strange, soft board that had been pushed up against the wall. He chattered again, this time at her quietly as she laid him down, carefully and attentively, onto it. Then, she joined him, lying very close, resting the side of her face against his slick, scaly abdomen. She closed her eyes and she only listened, patiently waiting for…something. Then, she drew in a breath, even and slow, holding it her lungs for as long as she was physically able to.

Time was nearly up.

Tomorrow would be their last day.


	6. Chapter 6

He looked down at the dark water, somehow instinctively both knowing and understanding the reason why she had brought him here so late at night. But even still, he had been entirely perplexed at the very notion of leaving without her; and he could not seem to bring himself to even begin to understand the reason why she seemed so cold towards him all of a sudden, so disinterested in the idea of coming with him.

Standing mere feet from her in the night and the chilled, steady rain, he turned back, away from the water and looked at _E-L-I-S-A, E-L-I-S-A, E-L-I-S-A._

He slowly raised an arm and he pointed to her.

_You._

Then, to himself.

_And me._

Finally, he brought each of his fist hands close enough together that they touched, effortlessly forming the sign for one of the very last words that she would ever get a chance to teach him.

_Together._

_Yes, yes, yes,_ she would have signed back to him endlessly, desperately, had she not known better. Oh, how she longed to be able to be with him, forever and always, if only she could. But, she did know better, which meant that their time together, as glorious as it had been for her, had to be up. She could do almost nothing now except wish that their time had meant as much to him as it did to her.

She knew that it had to be over because he both needed and deserved to be free again, as free as he always should be, and as free as he had been, that is, before he had been snatched so viciously from the Amazon and unwillingly dragged to Baltimore.

In spite of how much she loved him, it was terribly easy for her to know that she wanted him to have his freedom again; she truly wanted that for him. In fact, she had nearly gotten to the point where she almost began to wish that he had never even been brought here in the first place (and yes, even if that would have meant that she would have never had any reason, at all, to even dare to dream of his existence in the world).

_No._

She forced herself to sign to him instead, firmly shaking her head in order to help illustrate her point.

_Without me._

_Without me._

She put a hand over her mouth; the tears were coming.

Hurt, confused, he stepped away; he was about to turn away from her completely, though, when he abruptly stopped himself, because he had noticed the briefest, strangest glimmer of something in the moonlight, in the distance behind her.

It did not take very long for him to realize that it was something made from metal, something that was all too familiar and something that reminded him all too well of that strange, electrical stick that that bad man, called _S-T-R-I-C-K-L-A-N-D_ (he briefly thought of how the way she would sign the letters to him), always used on him to gain the control.

He shrieked, gnashing his teeth at it, at the _memory_ , hoping to warn her and hoping that she might understand. It was too late. It was all too late. There was a sudden, terrible explosion, one loud crack forcefully piercing the silence of the night air. And then, there was another, like twin bolts of lightening.

She could only watch as the creature fell.

Confused, she turned around frantically, unknowing, searching for…she couldn’t even say; and that was the moment that she felt all the color drain from her face, because that was the moment that she saw _him._

Mr. Strickland. Holding a gun. Pointing it right at her.

She immediately froze.

She only stared at him, and suddenly all of the _fear_ was there again, in her eyes. It had been the same exact fear that she always seemed to experience, somewhere, deep within her core, whenever she sensed that he was near, whenever he got too close.

She had inadvertently allowed him to get far too close to her again, and now, he was staring back at her, unblinking, coldly, never saying a single word to her, almost shaking, as he only tightened his grip on the gun. Up until that very moment, she had noticed that the only thing that he seemed to have in his eyes, in his very existence, at all, was hatred, so much fervent and staggering _hatred_. But then, there was something about the terrible way he was looking at her, at the creature, that had begun to change, ever so slowly; and, she felt as if she could only watch, helplessly, as all of that hatred that she knew was inside of him began to blend with something new, something that reminded her very much of that same lingering, gnarled, beastly sense of thirst that he had always and only seemed to have, somewhere, deep inside, _for_ her and for all of her incurable silence.

She felt her fear of him magnify, understanding the danger and understanding how vulnerable she was; though now, she felt that she was only left to wonder to herself what more he could have wanted from her. It all seemed to be enough to cause her to stop breathing for a moment, knowing that if it hadn’t been obvious before, it was most certainly and painfully obvious now, that he was the one who had all the power and she was the one who had nothing.

She would never be able to protect the creature; she would never be able to protect herself, from someone like him.

Not before, not now, not ever.

She was a fool for ever imagining that she could.

It made her flinch, when she heard the gun go off a third time. In an instant, searing, pain cut through her like a white-hot knife, and she looked down at herself, realizing for the very first time that she had been mortally wounded. She watched, almost curiously, as the bullet fell from her coat onto the ground before she collapsed after it.

She slowly turned her head to look at him.

Her heart, her soul, her _everything_.

He was so eerily and so deathly still that she just knew that he had already gone. Still, she inhaled sharply as she only reached for him, resting her hand within his, at the same time both hoping and fearing that the sight of him there would be the last thing in this world she would ever see. She shut her eyes, a single thought entered her mind mere moments before the world went blank.

_Was this really how this was all meant to end?_


	7. Chapter 7

She didn’t know any of it just yet, because she just couldn’t know any of it just yet. The truth of the matter was that there was simply no real way for her to know any of it at all, that is, exactly what it was that he had done for her and exactly how he had saved her. The truth was that she was entirely unaware of the manner in which he had risen from death, out there in the very midst of all the frigid, numbing rain of one of the deepest, darkest nights, appearing to do nothing except only confirm all of their suspicions; appearing to do nothing except only finally prove to them all that it was all entirely true, that he was in fact, the very same kind of primal, ancient, Amazonian God that they had all long thought and at the very same time, long feared, that he could be.

She had no idea of how he had approached him, the bad one, that man called _S-T-R-I-C-K-L-A-N-D_ , and with one, fluid motion of his sharp claws, how he had made it so that the bad one would never have the opportunity to bring harm to her ever again. She had no real grasp on the idea that that he had made it this way for her, and only for her. She had no real grasp on the idea that she was the most important thing, that she always was and that she always would be.

She was entirely unaware of the manner in which, afterwards, he had lifted her, how he had held her with the most infinite tenderness in his arms, how he had taken her to the water, to the one place where he had always known that he would be able to keep her safe from everything. He would keep her safe now, no matter what, because he knew that he could; that was the one promise that he would be willing to make to her that he would always, always, always intend to keep, whether she knew it or not.

She had felt so cold, and she was so still, and she was so pale, but he decided that he would take her there anyway, because he knew that he would be able to protect her there; in fact, he knew that he would be able to do so much more for her and much, much better, there, in the water, than he would ever hope to be able to protect her on land. Though it didn’t seem to matter much after all, actually, and he had begun to fear that she herself might never even know it.

If only one day, she would. He had always imagined that she would be safe in the water, but now, now she was only sinking.

Down, down, down.

Deeper, deeper, deeper.

The strange way in which she was sinking, so quickly, almost seemed to make him want to believe, if only for a moment, that she might never stop. And it did truly scare him, the simple fact that he felt as if he couldn’t understand this, he couldn’t understand why this was happening to her, but then it occurred to him that maybe, only maybe, that was all only because he just did not want to bring himself to understand any part of this. But he was so close to her now that he decided that he only watch her carefully, brushing a single, finger across her cheek so, so lightly, trying his best to focus and trying his best to watch for a moment when even the smallest sign of life might just dare to cross her face.

He waited and he waited, for something, for anything, because that was the only thing he could do. He had begun to sing to her gently; he had begun to sing to her in a way that he never had before, and he sang to her in a manner that was so soft and so mild that it barely seemed to be audible, even to himself.

He reached out for her one last time, touching her face again, and he could soon sense that there was nothing left there, nothing left in her at all, but hurt.

So much hurt.

It only seemed to be right then that it had even occurred to him that she was already beginning to slip away from him. It only seemed to be right then that it had even occurred to him that she was already beginning to slip away from everything.

The song ended.

He thought about letting go.

* * *

He touched it, the hurt.

He made sure to be as gentle as he could be, for he did not ever wish to cause her any more of it.

He waited and he watched.

He gave her warmth.

He gave her everything he thought he could.

He only hoped that it would be enough.

He watched and he waited.

The skin on her neck opened and it began to flare slightly, almost unexpectedly, and in a manner in which he almost did not even notice at all.

It had taken her such a long time, but she was finally breathing again.

* * *

_Water._

That was the very first thing she had become aware of, that was the very first coherent thought that had entered her mind since before the darkness had come for her and dragged her away from her creature and from everything else she knew.

She knew that she was in the water before she even had to open her eyes and when she did, she saw that there was so, so much of it everywhere, surrounding her, yet despite this, she seemed to be strangely unafraid, because she could sense that it was all only this way because of him. In fact, she only felt calm, so very calm. Because all of the unimaginable hurt seemed to be gone now and she only very briefly thought of all of the times that she had dreamt of this before, more than once. In fact, most likely many, many more times than she could even recall at that moment.

For a few seconds, it seemed as if every part of this made her almost want to believe that this might all be a dream, though, she was almost entirely certain that it wasn’t; and the reason why she knew this was mainly because she could sense, somehow and some way, deep inside of herself that she wasn’t alone there. Somehow and some way, she could sense that he was near, that he was there, because he had to be.

_He wouldn’t have left her now, would he?_

The seconds ticked by as she searched, her eyes scanning the water endlessly, growing more and more desperate to find him with each and every moment that passed. Though, all she could see was the blue, blue water and nothing else, and there was just something about it all that felt strangely natural to her, strangely natural to her in a way that even she herself was not quite sure she would ever be able to explain. And somehow, it almost appeared, if only for a moment, as if she finally understood something she hadn’t before, as if she could almost _remember_ something she had forgotten so long ago.

But then, it immediately occurred to her afterwards that maybe, just maybe, that was all only the proof that she needed to confirm her lingering suspicions this _was_ , in fact, only a dream. Surely, it had to be, she decided now.

Then something seemed to quickly pull her out of her thoughts when she flinched, only slightly, noticing something, a bright, abrupt something directly in front of her. He appeared from somewhere down below, nearly out of nowhere, but it didn’t matter because he was there again, with her, and all of his markings were shimmering rapidly and in so many different colors all at once.

He reached out for her carefully, and almost cautiously, running a webbed hand gently over her cheek and through her hair briefly before he slowly signed something to her.

His most favorite word.

_E-L-I-S-A._

Her eyes met his instantly, and instantly, she felt as if she were so madly in love with him, much more than before. They were so close together again, now, his face mere inches from hers; and, it was only then that she came to realize just how hopelessly lost she was there, with him; and she didn't even care at all, because she had found herself lost in each and every one of the ways that she imagined that she always she would be, one day. In fact, she felt with the utmost certainty that she was even more in love with him, here and now, in the water, than it seemed she had, than she could have ever even been capable of, during their time together on land.

In that very moment, her love for him appeared to be so deep and so fierce that she began to wonder some things to herself and almost doubt whether or not it was ever even real at all, she began to wonder to herself whether or not such a thing as that could ever even existed in a world such as this. Though, it only took her another moment, though, to definitively decide that _of course_ her love for him was real and that _of course_ her love for him had to have existed in the world, though it seemed that the only reason why she knew this without a doubt was simply because of the fact that he was there, and he was the only thing in this world that she could see anymore. He was the only thing in this world that she could feel; he was the only thing in this world that she truly knew anymore. He was the only thing in this world that she even cared or even wished to ever truly know again.

He moved to embrace her; he touched her so gently, so delicately, though she could feel every part of it. She could feel all of the warmth suddenly as it blossomed somewhere, deep inside, within her core before growing, expanding slowly, only ceasing once it had permeated throughout every part of her existence. She shut her eyes, knowing that she had what she had always wanted, knowing that she had what she had always desired so terribly.

They were together.

They would never be apart again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so very sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I just got a little busy and I also decided to rewrite this last chapter entirely from the way it was before (I don't think it was very good, so hopefully I made it better), which is why it took me so long. Anyway, so this is the final chapter of this story. I really hope you like the conclusion and I really want to thank everyone who was committed and who has followed this story from the beginning and left kudos and left me some amazing feedback. Seriously, I was extremely nervous about posting this story because I wasn't sure how I would do writing a story with more than one chapter, but I was determined to finish this story and I'm so glad to see that you've all seemed to enjoy it. It's really kind of crazy to me to see how many views and kudos this story has gotten since the first chapter just because I never thought that that many people would be interested in reading my writing. I really mean it, I can't explain what that kind of support means to me and how much I appreciate it. Thank all of you so much again. And special thanks goes to Tyellas, who this story is dedicated to.


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